


Stress Relief

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 03:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/402089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Close quarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Written after I asked for "vintage Sparky prompts" one day a few weeks ago.

"You know," Elizabeth gulped, squirming slightly. "I believe in being close to your colleagues but-"

"This is ridiculous," John finished for her. He didn't see her nod, but he felt it. He had his eyes closed and was concentrating very, very hard on football statistics. They didn't have a flashlight anyway, so no point keeping his eyes open.

For reasons known only to itself, Atlantis had trapped them in what amounted to a vertical crawlspace. Elizabeth had been poking her nose into the maintenance shaft and John, having more than once encountered unpleasant surprises like this, was hovering behind her to make sure nothing nasty suddenly came out of the walls if Elizabeth accidentally tripped an alarm or something. Which she _did_ and the door started to shut and his instincts had kicked in before he could stop and think. He'd pushed her forward to get her out of the way of the door, but "forward" was only a couple feet of space with the door shut behind him. Not even enough room to turn around.

Now they were stuck, waiting for Rodney to find the mechanism that controlled the door, and then figure out how to open the door. The hatches were sealed to boot so it wasn't like they could climb up and out themselves.

John couldn't figure out if it was better or worse that he wasn't wearing his vest. Not wearing it meant they had a little bit more room, but it also meant he was more or less spooned up against Elizabeth's back with nothing between them.

Hence the sports statistics.

The problem with the darkness and his eyes being shut was that his brain was pulling information from his other senses and that way lay danger. He could feel every breath either of them took, and his front side was warm from her body, all the way from his shoulders down to his thighs. He worked harder not to think about that.

He'd only ever vaguely noted that Elizabeth had a particular smell that he recognized, soap or shampoo or a combination of the two, he didn't know. It wasn't really relevant. Now he could smell _her_ , not just the soap, because his nose was inches away from her hair and her neck, and Elizabeth's scent seemed to permeate the tiny space.

The noises seemed amplified by the walls too, so it took a moment for him to realize Elizabeth was breathing rapidly, and shallowly.

"Elizabeth?" She made a little noise in response. "Are you okay?"

Her voice was low and there was a hitch in it that made him ache. "I just... I'm not fond of small, dark spaces is all."

Crap. He'd had no idea she was claustrophobic. Which made sense, since Elizabeth didn't generally share her weak spots willingly.

John slid his hands up her back to her shoulders. Her muscles were rigid under his fingers and he began to work on them gently. "It's okay, Elizabeth. I'm right here." He tried to keep his own voice low and as calm as he could make it. "There's plenty of air getting in. I can feel the draft from the door. The seal isn't very tight." That wasn't exactly true, but she didn't need to know that. "Slow, deep breaths, okay?"

She nodded again, the curls of her hair brushing against his fingers and John shivered involuntarily. Elizabeth thankfully was too focused on herself to notice.

She started breathing slowly and her shoulders started to unknot under his massage. Gradually he heard her breathing return to normal and then he felt her shake slightly with a laugh. "That feels really good, you know."

Wanting to keep her mood up, he replied, "Well, there's an upside to being stuck in here. We could never do this in your office."

Her tone was rueful. "No. That would just invite more gossip and enough people already think-" She stopped short and John could practically feel the heat radiating off her face. It matched his ears burning.

He struggled to pull them back into more comfortable territory. "We might have to start making exceptions regardless of what people will say. Are you always this tense?" He worked on a resistant hard spot right where her shoulder and neck met.

She gasped out, "Pretty much" and spasmed under his hands as he got the tension there to go. John's whole body went on high alert, pulse kicking up and his own breathing getting faster at the way she arched like that from his touch.

"That's not good for you, you know," he growled. He hated that she didn't take better care of herself. Unfortunately, he didn't have much of a leg to stand on where that subject was concerned.

"You want me to be less stressed, colonel, stop getting into so much trouble," Elizabeth teased gently.

There were a lot of other ways John could think of to reduce her stress levels, starting with this and ending with a lot less clothing. He dragged his mind out of the gutter and shifted his feet back to make sure his lower body was well away from hers. "Well, this time it's totally your fault."

"It is not!"

"Is too."

" _John_."

"What?" he whined. "You're the one who was in here."

"You're the one who jumped in when the door started to close," she shot back.

"Would you rather be in here alone?" he asked and then wanted to kick himself as she shuddered.

"No," Elizabeth admitted. "Though if I was, I'd know you were right outside the door anyway."

That was the truth. Wild horses and all that.

They fell silent and John belatedly realized his hands were now just running up and down her shoulders slowly. His right hand crept up Elizabeth's neck, sliding under her hair and threading through the soft curls there. Her breathing had shifted again and John leaned forward, closing the tiny gap between them. Elizabeth didn't move away, not even when his other hand slid down her shoulder and his fingertips slid over the bare skin of her arm. He felt the goose bumps break out over her flesh as he touched her and Elizabeth sighed. Her hand grasped his in the dark.

Her scalp was warm and her hair was like silk around his fingers and he was overwhelmed by the desire to lean down and kiss the nape of her neck, see if he could get Elizabeth to arch up like a cat again...

There was a loud, metallic noise behind him and John just barely pulled his hands back and composed himself when the door cracked open and light flooded in. Rodney peered at them worriedly. "Are you guys okay?"

John backed up and out into the corridor, giving Elizabeth room to breathe. She shook herself and stepped out quickly after him. "We're okay. It was just... not a lot of air."

Rodney fussed and it was a testament to his feelings both about tiny, enclosed spaces and Elizabeth that he waited a couple minutes before observing, "You guys must've been like sardines in there." A second later a grin started to form on his face, which Elizabeth glared down.

"John wasn't wearing his vest, so there was actually enough room," she pointed out.

Rodney subsided and Elizabeth firmly denied either of them needed to see Carson. John insisted that she go back up to her office, though, where she'd be safe from anymore curiosity, at least for the moment. They reached the transporter and just before she got in it, he coughed. "If you, you know, need any help, you know, again..." He trailed off, having trouble meeting her eyes and having trouble not looking at her. He wasn't sure what he was offering, or what Elizabeth would think he was offering here.

He was pretty much offering whatever she was willing to take from him right now. His fingers were itching with need to touch her again, any way possible.

But Elizabeth was never as impulsive as him. He could see thoughts whirring through her head but he couldn't decipher them fast enough. "John," she said softly and he steeled himself to go on the defensive and claim he'd just meant she needed to take care of herself, etcetera. But she surprised him, reaching out and brushing his arm with her hand. "I'll let you know, okay?"

He nodded, stunned, and then she was gone, while the feeling of her skin against his still burned on his arm.


End file.
